


Tracing stories.

by JustAnotherFool



Category: Naruto
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Iruka Week 2021, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Sarutobi Asuma, Mostly fluffy really, Scars, Slice of Life, Trans Umino Iruka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherFool/pseuds/JustAnotherFool
Summary: Scars are stories embedded on skin.On a too hot night, Kakashi finds himself tracing Iruka's stories.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Kudos: 25
Collections: Iruka Week 2021





	Tracing stories.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 - Scars.
> 
> I won't participate in all the days, but I'm sure having fun!  
> Hope you enjoy. 💕

Every ninja had a scar. Multiple scars, really. It’s an occupational hazard, a reminder to be more careful in the future and a sign you survived to try again. Most ninjas displayed them with pride, exaggerating the stories and adding their own dramatic flair; some preferred to conceal them and were more discreet and reserved; others just ignored them and moved on with their lives. Rarely someone was ashamed of a scar, it was a victory mark, a reminder you’re alive rather then you’ve failed.

Kakashi thought about all of it while his fingers lazily traced Iruka’s back, caressing the scar tissue there. It was a huge one, left by Mizuki’s shuriken back when Naruto was just a kid. Iruka had told him this story, a mix of pain and grief for seeing his childhood friend so consumed by hatred, and pride for being able to protect the student he saw as his own, for standing up for Naruto when no one else would and seeing Naruto protect him in return.

Iruka wasn’t one to exaggerate stories, so when he said how impressive it was, eyes shining and a smile on his face, Kakashi believed him. If there was a kid stubborn enough to conjure a bunch of clones with barely no practice out of pure rage and protectiveness, it was Naruto.

“Can’t sleep?” Iruka asked, voice low, and stirred to face Kakashi on their bed.

“Too hot,” Kakashi mumbled. Iruka made an agreeing noise. They were both striped to their boxers and it was still too hot, “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I also can’t sleep,” he smiled. Kakashi’s hand, now that Iruka’s back was turned, decided to trace the scars on his chest instead, “something on your mind?” Iruka got his hand to place a small kiss on his knuckles before letting it resume the scar tracing.

“You.”

“Ow, that was so cheesy,” Iruka shoved him playfully, a grin betraying his true thoughts, “please tell me you didn’t get it from Icha Icha.”

“I’ll let you know Icha Icha is full of great lines!” He play-shoved Iruka back, “You’d know if you gave it a try, _sensei_.”

“Let’s agree to disagree then,” It wasn’t the first time they talked about it, and wouldn’t be the last. The outcome was always the same.

They fell on a comfortable silence.

Kakashi’s attention went back to Iruka’s scars, his fingers idly tracing them one by one.

The twin lines on his chest, under the pectorals, faded and neat, surgical. Top surgery. Iruka told him all about the pre-op nervousness and the how the first post-op week sucked. Then how good it was, to make his body more his own. Iruka also traced these scars from time to time.

His hand adventured a bit lower, tracing the faint scars on his ribs and soft belly. A couple shurikens he didn’t dodge in time, some accidents on kunai practice, faint marks of cuts that barely managed to scar. Kakashi cherished those small stories as much as he did the big ones.

Iruka chuckled when his finger fluttered over a particularly ticklish spot, but he didn’t say anything. Kakashi kept going down, sitting on the bed to have access to Iruka’s legs. He was mesmerized, like it wasn’t a hellishly hot night, like he wasn’t tired, like the only thing that mattered was keeping on tracing Iruka’s scars, Iruka’s stories.

“What are you doing?” Iruka’s voice was somewhat amused. He tilted his neck to get a better look at Kakashi, but didn’t move otherwise.

“I love you,” Kakashi said, barely above a whisper and so sincere.

There was a bigger scar on Iruka’s right thigh, one made by a deeper cut. A kunai. One of the many kunais Mizuki threw at Naruto. The one that hit Iruka when he pushed Naruto away and suffered the attack on his place.

Kakashi loathed how many marks Mizuki left on Iruka’s body.

“Love you too,” Iruka let his head drop back on the pillow, “but what are you doing?”

“Just… Thinking,” he shrugged, fingers going to Iruka’s ankle, “about how lucky I am to have you,” _and for you telling me all these stories. Letting me know all of you_.

He didn’t say the last part aloud, but it must have been written all over his face, if Iruka’s blushing cheeks are any evidence.

“Are you _trying_ to make me beet-red at this unholy hour?”

“Maa, I’d never dream of it,” Kakashi joked. His finger found a small, circular scar on Iruka’s foot. This one was different from a stab wound. It was from burning.

A cigarette burning, to be exact.

He smiled. At least this one was a funny one. Iruka and Asuma were still on their teens and Asuma had just started smoking. Hidden from his father, of course. He and Iruka were messing around, talking about everything and nothing all at once, when Hiruzen snuck up on them. Asuma got so startled and desperate to hide the evidence that he let the cigarette fall on Iruka’s bare foot.

He was grounded for a long, long time. And Iruka got a mild scolding too for enabling him and helping him hide it from the Hokage.

“Asuma still gets flustered when I bring this one up,” Iruka mentioned, as if reading his mind. They looked at each other before laughing.

There they were, on a too hot night with Kakashi’s hand strolling over Iruka’s skin like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Kakashi lay back on the bed with a grunt, his body relishing on the softness, and leaned just enough to place a chaste kiss on Iruka’s lips.

The light, comfortable mood soured a little when Kakashi’s finger gently traced the characteristic scar on Iruka’s nose.

Iruka wasn’t one to flaunt scars and embellish stories. But he also didn’t try to hide them or brush them off. Kakashi always thought of him as someone who doesn’t particularly care about the scars, but shares the stories with people he’s close with (and always tells them exactly as they happened).

Then there’s the scar on his nose.

It’s probably his older one, since no one remembers him without it. The thing is, whenever someone asks, Iruka evades, dodges, change the subject or find an excuse to leave. It doesn’t matter if it’s a complete stranger or his best friend, he never answers this one.

Kakashi worries he’s ashamed of this one. Ashamed enough to hide it from everyone, even from him. He asked once, when their relationship was still new and fresh, then never again. It was a mix of respecting Iruka’s privacy and avoiding the stinging feeling of rejection.

“What’s the problem?” Iruka must have noticed the sudden dark mood, one of his hands caressed Kakashi’s while the other went to cup his cheek.

“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, staring the story-less scar. Understanding dawned on Iruka.

“Oh,” he said, “It’s the only one I never told you about, isn’t it?”

Kakashi nodded.

“You don’t have to,” he assured.

“No, it’s okay,” Iruka’s hand kept on caressing his cheek, “It’s just… I wish you hadn’t chosen the hottest night ever to bring this up,” he jested, managing to get a chuckle from Kakashi.

“So… about this one,” he traced the old scar over his nose, “I have no idea,” he grinned.

Kakashi spluttered. Talk about breaking the expectations….

“Yeah, well,” Iruka resumed, “I was too little when I got this one, and when I asked my parents they said they’d tell me later. Then there was the Nine-Tails and… There was no later.” His voice got quieter. Kakashi squeezed his hand.

“I see,” he said, because he felt he should say something.

“So that’s it,” Iruka shrugged, “Guess I’ll never know the story behind this one.”

“That’s okay, thanks for telling me,” Kakashi moved closer and tried to pass an arm over Iruka’s shoulders, but Iruka shoved him away less playfully this time, “What?”

“Too hot to cuddle,” Iruka grimaced, “I love you, but you’re like a furnace.”

“It’s never too hot to cuddle!” Kakashi protested, then he considered how they were both sweating already and recoiled at the idea of having another body’s warmth on top of his own, “But maybe it’s hot enough to warrant a nice nighttime bath? With really, really cold water,” he offered, “Join me?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Iruka sat on the bed and stretched, popping his joints with a pleased sigh, “Let’s go?”

“I’m right behind you.”


End file.
